Ib: Eternal Promise
by GermanyXItaly1000
Summary: Mary has been burnt away. Ib returns to see Garry, hoping to find him awake, waiting for her... and discovers something horrible that will essentially kill her desire to go back to the real world. Without Garry, what will Ib do? One-shot. Takes place before and after the "Forgotten Portrait" ending.


"Garry?"

He was gone. Her hand crept across the fabric of his coat, felt his wrist. No pulse.

"Garry? Garry... Answer me!"

She reached up, brushed the light purple hair from his eyes, expecting to see brilliant dark orbs staring vibrantly back at her.

She wanted to hear his laugh. See his grin. Hear him say, "I'm okay!" and to act as if nothing had happened.

"Garry, please. Wake up..."

He was sleeping. He had to be sleeping, right...?

"Garry, don't leave me here... C'mon... come with me, Garry!"

She tugged at his coat arm, heard the fabric tear ever so slightly, and stopped. No. She didn't want to disturb any precious detail on his body. Nothing... he looked so perfect like this... so peaceful...

... Sleeping.

"Garry, you have to get up." Her voice was small, insignificant. She wondered, for a moment, if something was wrong with it. Her voice was usually not this high, was it? "Garry, Mary's gone. She... She burnt away."

She edged closer to him, swinging her leg over so that she sat on his lap, facing him.

He leaned against the wall, eyes closed, head hung, skin pale, so perfectly asleep.

His hair had fallen over that eye again-she reached up and brushed it away for a moment, only to have the violet locks fall back over his closed eyelid.

_Asleep_.

He was warm, though. So wonderfully warm. She leaned forward and brushed her cheek against his. Yes, he was warm, and it comforted her. The fabric of his clothing were worn, soft, now that she could feel them. She put a hand against his chest, the other clutching at her rose.

"Garry?"

He didn't speak. He didn't move. She brushed her fingers over his pants, his coat. He would not move.

"Garry, wake up. Please."

Still, he did not utter a sound. She could see his face up closely now. The lovely pale skin. The thin, beautiful lashes. That peaceful face. But why would he not answer her?

"Garry. I-It's not funny..."

She shook his shoulder. It disturbed his figure, and he slumped to the ground, silent and foreboding. He landed swiftly, quietly.

He was not asleep. No, Garry wasn't asleep at all...

_He was dead._

"No!" The first scream came unexpectedly, shot right of her mouth. Her hands flew up to cover it, she wanted to muffle the noise. "No! No, no, no, no, no! _Garry_!"

He lay still. Quietly. Dead. Like a beautiful angel.

"Garry! Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me! You promised you wouldn't!"

She had thrown her own rose aside to the floor now... As it landed upon the ground, flown from its owner's hands, a single petal floated out from amidst the flower and onto the ground beside it.

There was a piercing pain in Ib's chest. She gasped silently, for the first time truly feeling the burning sensation in her heart.

Garry was dead. He was not coming back.

_She was alone._

"... Mary." She leaned over, picked up the red rose. It was too beautiful to be real-too beautiful. Just like Garry. "I can't forgive you... I never will."

The rose, clutched in her hand, was lifted up into the air. Right before her heart. She wanted it close to her.

And she waited.

Waited for a sign to come. Waited for something to happen.

Waiting maybe, maybe just for Garry to stir. Would he? Would he come back?

"... I'm sorry, Garry. I'm s-so sorry." The sobs came soon afterwards, and tears dripped singly onto the crimson petals of the red rose.

"You should've never given her your rose, Garry! You didn't have to do it!" Sobs turned quickly to cries of regret. Pain.

What to do now? There was no Garry now. She was alone. All alone, Ib all alone. Without Garry, she had nothing. Go back to the real world? No! She'd sworn not to leave Garry here!

She held the rose close to her-plucked off a petal.

"_He loves me._"

Three left. Three petals of her life.

"_He loves me not._"

Two now. Would she dare to pull another?

"_He loves me._"

She stared breathlessly at the bloom. Just one petal left.

"He loves me not."

Tears. They came again and again, wouldn't stop. The words rang in her mind. "Loves me not, loves me not." The voices wouldn't stop. "Loves me not. Loves me not. He loves me not."

What a silly little game it was. And how much it hurt her was incredible.

"He loves me not, he loves me not, he loves me not, he loves me not."

Garry didn't love her. No. That wasn't true. He didn't love her. Did he? Yes, he had to have cared for her... Yes... But it hurt, all the same...

Bloodied mannequin heads strewn across the floor. Blood. Ashes. Blue rose petals.

Yes... blue rose petals. She had the stem of what had been Garry's rose in her pocket. She pulled it out.

"I'm sorry, Garry," she uttered again. Tears streamed from her eyes. Tears that would never change the past. No matter how many tears she shed, Garry was dead. Dead.

_Dead, dead dead. Dead. Dead._

"No! Stop it!" screamed Ib.

The voices chanted.

_Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead._

"No! Please! Stop!" Her hands flew instinctively to her face. Red and blue stem alike were nearly smashed against rosy cheeks, mingled in blood and sweat. The thorns had cut her skin.

_Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead! Garry's dead! Dead!_

She got up and ran. Away from Garry's body. Away from the ashes of Mary's painting and body. Away from everything. The blue petals on the floor, the whole yet unreal yellow rose that lay next to a bloody palette knife. Everything was gone. Thrown again. Lost.

A door.

_The pink key fits._

Ib fumbled with it. The door opened. She ran inside, into the darkness, wanting to escape from everything. A painting.

_Fabricated World._

Goodbye, Mary. Goodbye, gallery...

_"Goodbye, Garry."_

There was white. All around her. A bright white.

When her eyelids opened, she was not alone.

She heard the vague chatting of men and women around her. Children. A little child shouted, "Mommy, look, a cat! Mommy, look! Kitty!"

She looked down at her hands. Cut and scratched. What had happened?

She looked closer, saw little scraps of soft blue and red against her fingers. Could it be rose petals?

Rose petals... a dim memory flashed in the distant back of her mind. No, not possible. She hadn't touched a rose in weeks... or at least she couldn't remember if she had. Where was she?

An art gallery?

"Yes... I was here with Mother and Father!" She remembered now. But what had she been doing? "I was... looking... at the paintings..."

A crowd of people stood densely around a floor painting. What was this? She pushed between a little boy and his father and stood on tiptoes to read the sign.

"... A-Abyss... of the Deep."

_I know this word? That's strange... I don't remember knowing it before._

Yes! She had looked at this floor painting not so long ago. She hadn't known the word "abyss". How strange.

And what was this painting?

A head shot of a man. He was a handsome person, not a day above 21, perhaps younger. Light violet hair and closed eyes. Pale, lovely skin. She felt like she knew him. Rose petals lit around him, at the bottom of the painting, in the air. In his hand was a beautiful blue rose.

_A rose... that withered, and with it withered life..._

"... ?!"

She knew this man! She knew his name!

"Garry!"

She moved forward, stepped closer to the painting. "Garry!" she cried, wanting to hear his voice.

"Garry, are you there?!"

She knew him! She remembered! But... was he alive? Alive? Or dead?

"Garry, Garry, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry that you're stuck there, in that gallery! I'm sorry! I didn't want to leave without you!"

The tears started again. They were itchy and painful and made her eyes ache. She had cried before, for many hours. At his side, at his body.

"Garry... P-Please... Please be alive..."

Wait. What was this... in her pocket?

She reached in-and pulled out a blue rose.

It was healthy, alive. Too beautiful to be real. Like the one in the painting. She hesitated, then counted the petals.

_10._

Ten petals. Ten! He was safe! He was stuck, but safe!

"Garry!" But he was in the art gallery still... Somewhere. "Garry! I'll..."

She moved even close to the painting, her fingertips brushing lightly against the canvas. Against his face. She heard a man calling, telling her not to touch it.

"Ib? Ib, what are you doing?!" Her mother was behind her, grasping her shoulders. "I told you not to cause trouble! Ah... I guess you didn't mean it... but still..."

She heard the sigh of her father. "Well, it's time to go home."

"All right. Come on, Ib. I'll cook you your favourite dinner when you get home, and you can tell us all about your experience in the gallery. Now let's go."

Her parents began walking, departing from the gallery. She lingered.

"You'll be all right, Garry. You'll be fine. I'll come back for you. For now... Goodbye."

Ib turned and left.

* * *

The gallery was gone.

Every piece of art that belonged to the late artist Guertena was gone. Moved to Italy for another show.

And with it had gone Garry.

* * *

_"Ib!" _  
_  
Fists pounded against a wall. A dull wall surrounded by a frame. A wall inside a golden frame that showed the gallery, the outside world. Things moved within, but he could not touch them._

_"Ib!" He called for her. "Please, don't leave me!"_

_He did not know how he had survived. His rose had been torn to pieces by Mary. But somehow, he was alive._

_"Ib! I'm sorry, I promised that I would run to you, but... but..." Tears ran from dark eyes full of pain and sorrow._

_"Please... don't leave me here alone, Ib... Don't leave me all alone..."_

_He was stuck here. In a world where mannequin heads lay crying bloody tears of red paint. A world where headless statues roamed free. They did not attack him anymore. They were friendly now. Even the dolls smiled with kindness at him._

_But he was alone. God forsaken. Alone._

_Without Ib._

_And his rose was gone. He could not find it. What would happen if something got a hold of it? Would he die without knowing it? Unconsciously, as petals were plucked away from another world?_

_He called out again, wanting to see her face._

_"Ib..."_

* * *

"...Garry..."

She placed the beautiful blue rose on a vase upon her nightstand. Garry was gone, but she still had his rose. She would protect it and treasure it. She would keep him safe. His heart... the rose symbolized Garry's heart.

She held Garry's heart in her hands.

And within the vase, waiting to be joined by a blue rose, was her own red rose. It didn't hurt when she pulled petals off of it anymore. Not now that she was in her own world. But it still remained healthy forever in water, and she wanted it as near to Garry's as possible.

She set the blue flower into the water upon the vase, where it would remain healthy for years, and went downstairs.

"Mother...?"

"Yes, Ib?"

"I was wondering... Can we go somewhere new this summer?"

"Summer isn't for eight months, honey." Her mother smiled down at her.

"But when summer comes, can we go somewhere?"

"Of course, honey. Where?"

"... Italy."

Not enough money? That was all right. Father promised that he would make enough to go within the next three or four years. Three or four years was a fine time to wait, as long as the blue rose remained protected and healthy.

"Then can we go buy something to eat, Mom?"

"... All right. What would you like, Ib?"

"Lemon candies."

Not macaroons. Macaroons would wait, because Garry had said he would take her to a cafe someday to eat them with him. She would wait to eat the macaroons. But for now, lemon candies. Lemon candies that reminded her of her friend, waiting in the other world. She would pursue the exhibits forever until she found him again. She would not let him be alone.

Ib sat down in her room, staring at the blue rose with a distant smile.

_I'll find you someday, Garry. I promise. Wait for me. I'll come... someday... I won't forget you._

* * *

**Ending: Garry all alone.**


End file.
